


Ghosts That We Knew

by throwshismightyshield



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Multi, Multiverse, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwshismightyshield/pseuds/throwshismightyshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers wakes up one day to find the life that he knows and loves has suddenly changed overnight. Or maybe it just never really existed at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever published Avengers fanfic. It's also the first time I've actually written something and committed to it as well, so the fact it even got finished is my first huge success with this fic. 
> 
> It's not a completely original plot, borrowing devices from a few of my favourite TV shows and movies, but I hope you enjoy it either way! Thank you for coming to read it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
> 
> Currently unbeta'd; please drop any comments about mistakes into the comments and I'll work out the kinks!

The alarm stopped as a hand shot out to turn it off, thumping down heavily on the small digital clock. He groaned slightly, body feeling like he’d done a non-stop workout right before bed. He rubbed over his face as he sat up, letting out a small yawn as he looked around his room sleepily.

What a weird night he’d had, Steve thought as he stretched out his back muscles. He’d been at the docks, looking for something, and then everything had gone black...looking back on it, it seemed more like a dream than reality. Ah well. Detailed dreams weren’t something he was unused to, but as long as he was at home in bed, that was all that mattered. For now, it was up, breakfast, and then maybe some quality time alone with Tony...wherever he was. Perhaps he was in the lab or heck maybe even the shower? That’d make sense. Flopping back down on his bed Steve closed his eyes, a blush creeping over his face as he thought of Tony, body covered in beads of water as the steam from the shower turned his skin a light red hue...

Steve let out a low but gentle purr as he felt his pants shift. Okay, new plan. Find Tony, have sex regardless of where he was, _and then_ go for breakfast. There was no harm in putting quality time before food right? His thoughts were disturbed as he heard the lock on the door opening; ah so Tony had been in the shower. Damn...he’d missed that opportunity. Still the bed was good enough.

He rolled over, a smirk on his lips, only for his face to fall and skin to pale when he realised it wasn’t Tony coming out of the bathroom naked.

“Steve? Are you okay? Jees...how much did you drink last night? You look awful?”

He couldn’t help but stare blankly at Phil as he stood, towel around his waist, eyebrow arched as he questioned Steve. He snapped his fingers slightly, trying to get the soldier’s attention, but it wasn’t working.

“Steve?” His tone sounded worried now, like a concerned partner.

“Coulson,” Steve swallowed, “what...are you doing in Stark tower? Naked?”

Phil looked at him with concern and then relaxed, walking over to the bed and sitting on it, frowning at Steve as he pulled away because dear goodness this was damned weird...

“Steve how much did you have to drink? We left stark tower at about 4am...I didn’t think you’d been that drunk...” Phil laid a hand over Steve’s head, and he shuddered. This was just all kinds of weird and wrong and-

“Wait, we’re not in stark tower? T-then where are we!?” He pulled back in fear, the covers coming with him as he attempted to hide himself in a child-like act of confusion.

Now Phil looked at him with full concern. “Steve, we’re in our apartment. The one we’ve lived in together for nearly two years now?” There was that frown again, and Steve didn’t like that frown because he was usually the one using it on Tony.

That was something; if Steve was here, with Coulson, where the heck was Tony?

~~

“What do you mean we have to go to Stark tower and see Tony? I thought today was going to be spent me and you!” Coulson called after Steve as he walked into the living room of ‘their’ apartment, eyes scanning over everything. This was...definitely his place, no doubt about it. All his stuff was here, from his jacket to the books he kept at his bedside table back at Stark Tower. No this was too weird, this _couldn’t_ be where he lived because he lived with Tony, at Stark tower, with Bruce and Clint and sometimes Natasha when she was seeing Pepper and wasn’t on missions or at SHIELD.

“I need to talk to Tony, can you drive, I have some phone calls to make urgently.” Steve snagged the phone from the coffee table where it had been left, scrolling through it and frowning hard when he discovered a lot of the numbers had been deleted. Darn it!

From behind him, he heard Coulson pick up the car keys and open the door, watching him with the eyes of a worried mother. Steve walked past him, unable to look at him as he did, and took straight to the stairs. Once he’d cleared the apartments, he looked about in confusion for his car, heart sinking when he couldn’t see it. Was that gone too?

“Uh Steve,” Coulson was stood by a practical looking family car, and Steve could only nod dumbly as he climbed into the passenger side, buckling up immediately as he tried to figure out what was going on. He didn’t miss the look of sheer worry plastered over Coulson’s face as he flexed his fingers and tightened them into a fist, something he did when he was stressed. Only Tony knew that...

The tension in the car was palpable as they drove in silence towards the tower in the distance. Jees they lived in a rough part of the neighbourhood...Steve would have thought a SHIELD paycheck could have gotten Coulson a penthouse suite at least, especially knowing how organised the man was with everything, Steve was sure he’d store his money wisely too. To keep his mind off of things, Steve flicked through his phone, seeing whose numbers he still had.

Bruce, okay good.

Betty...wait who? What? Not Betty Ross surely?

Clint, another sigh of relief.

Natasha, made sense too.

Pepper, this was looking positive.

Stark...Not Tony. Stark.

That didn’t make...any sense.

“You know,” Coulson spoke, sounding nervous, and it caught Steve off guard as he turned to look at him, “I’m surprised you want to go back to Stark tower. I mean, you only ever really go there because you get on with Pepper. I’m just...surprised you want to go back to see Tony of all people.”

Steve looked at him dumbfounded.

“I...don’t like Tony?”

Coulson cleared his throat. “That’s...an understatement. You think he’s a self centred pompous spoiled rich asshole and that Pepper deserves better.”

“W-wait, Tony and...Pepper?! Since when?!”

“Since I introduced you to them...Steve, I really think you should see a doctor,” Coulson placed a worried hand on Steve’s thigh and squeezed it gently, lovingly, and Steve felt his stomach turn, “something is really wrong. Did you hurt your head last night?”

“I-No...I don’t...think so?” Steve rubbed over the back of his head, burying any emotion when he felt a lump there. That was just a coincidence, surely.

“Tell you what, when we get to Tony’s I’ll call Bruce to come and check you over okay?”

Steve nodded in agreement. At least seeing one friendly face who he apparently didn’t hate would be soothing right?

He spent the rest of the ride in silence, thinking. What was going on here? Why was everything a mess? And worst of all, why didn’t he remember anything?

~~

The familiar sense of normalcy that washed over Steve as he and Phil pulled into the Tower’s underground garage nearly made him vomit. In the 30 minute car ride from point A to B, Steve had hunted through his mind for any sort of reason or rhyme as to what was going on here, and was panicking because everything was coming up blank. He remembered nothing of this apparent life of his. The last thing he remembered was...foggy at best. Tony talking to him, Steve reassuring him it would be okay...Ah hell, he didn’t know...

As he climbed out of the car, the click-clack of heels on concrete signalled the arrival of Pepper coming down to greet them. She gave Phil a tight hug, looking over at Steve as he looked around the garage like he’d never seen it before, and honestly he hadn’t. Well, he knew this was the garage for definite; same dimensions and cars, but something was just missing about it. Usually Tony had all his tools down here, messing up the work benches, and piles of junk and scraps of metal. This garage was clean, well kept...organised.

It was weird and very much not Tony.

He turned and stared at Pepper as she gave him a worried look. “We called Bruce already; he’ll be over as soon as he can be.” She reassured him, walking to lead them up the stairs and to the elevator, taking them up to the penthouse suite. Steve was quiet the entire time, observing, absorbing the way the place now looked and comparing it to what it should look like.

What he thought it should look like.

The couches were modern, black frames and white leather and pristine, unlike the cracked and faded leather Steve was so used to sinking into; the decor was modern art and the walls were whitewashed, bland and dull; the soft friendly carpet had been replaced with a cold black marble floor, each tile looked like it had a galaxy inside it. It felt cold and unloving compared to the Stark Tower Steve knew so fondly.

And over in the corner, at a desk (a desk in the lounge, really?) was Tony, hunched over and signing off paperwork.

“Tony,” Pepper called out, nodding to the sofas, “Phil and Steve are here. Has Bruce said how long he’ll be?”

“Yeah, yeah, like ten minutes, do you mind being a doll and going somewhere else like the basement? I need to finish these reports by 4pm and having Bruce doing...whatever Bruce does to Captain crazy over there-“

“Tony!”

“-is really gonna hold me back.”

Pepper folded her arms, clearly annoyed, “Steve is my friend and he’s standing right over there.” She hissed, almost like she thought her hissing would quieten her voice.

It didn’t. Steve still heard her.

“Yeah, and he’s also crazy and I’m footing his medical bills by paying his boyfriend a wage whilst he sits at home raking in benefit money for something that he really needs to just grow up and deal with.” Tony retorted with a sneer, not even turning around to acknowledge them as he spoke. Soon enough the two of them were going at each other and Phil was dragging Steve down a corridor. He knew where Tony’s guest bedrooms were well enough by now.

Steve was quiet the entire time taking in the information as Coulson led him, body on autopilot. Tony and Pepper was a couple, a dysfunctional one from the look of it. Tony was Phil’s boss, which was something to say the least. What about SHIELD? Had something gone wrong? And Tony hated Steve for...some reason. “Did I...miss something important?” He asked as they got out of earshot, genuinely confused and concerned for his friends.

“Ignore him,” Coulson muttered, opening one of the doors and leading Steve in, the door closing gently behind them. “I’m sorry he’s always such an ass to you Steve, really. I just...” He made a fist before releasing it, calming himself down.

Steve looked down, frowning. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t take that though Phil. Why didn’t you say something to him?”

“What and get fired?” Phil scoffed, waving off Steve’s naive statement, “Steve seriously, I love you, but sometimes you have to come back and join the real world with the rest of us. I barely got into this job by the skin of my teeth; I can’t just throw it away because I think Stark needs to get his head out of his ass. Besides it...” he sat on the bed next to Steve, apology on his face, “it’s the best thing for you...”

“Me?”

“The bills, the hospital visits, the medication...if I was anywhere else my wages would barely cover them.” A hand was laid on Steve’s leg, Phil not realising how suddenly very tense Steve had gotten. “I just want what’s best for you. For us. And if that means having a boss who’s a dick then...that’s how the world is babe.” Steve felt a weight lean against him, heat running up and down his leg, but his body felt numb.

Medical bills? Hospitals and medication? What the heck was this!?

There was a gentle knock on the door, and the familiar voice of Bruce rang through. “Phil? Steve? You in there?”

“Uh, come in Bruce.” Coulson sat upright, giving Steve a small encouraging smile. It didn’t help. The door opened and Steve barely recognised the man who walked through it, his voice the only give away that this was in fact Bruce Banner. His glasses were gone replaced by contact lenses, his hair was cut short and his face clean shaven; and he showed no signs of any nervous habits or tics whatsoever. Steve eyed him warily, hand tightening on the bed sheets where they rested.

“Hey guys, what seems to be the problem?”

Phil sighed, standing up. Steve went to join him but he put a hand against his chest gently, keeping the blond in place. “I think we better go outside.” He nodded at the door. Bruce looked between the two of them but didn’t question it, shrugging and walking out followed by Coulson.

Steve felt like a scolded child whose parents were talking to the school principal. He had no idea what was going on, which only made him more anxious. Yesterday he’d been sitting around a table with Clint, Bruce and Tony, sharing slices of pizza and playing strip poker. Hadn’t he? He was so certain he had because it had seemed so real, like he could physically touch it. And yet, it seemed cloudy, hazy. Why was everything disjointed and wrong? Steve pushed his mind, forced himself to retrace his mental steps, but the more he tried the worse he felt. A wave of nausea swept over him, his hands were sweating up a storm and head pounding like a concert hall had occupied it.

So caught up in himself, Steve didn’t hear the door opening as Bruce walked back in. Alone. He only realised when he pulled his hands from his face, seeing Bruce’s shoes on the floor in front of him, the doctor sat on a chair opposite him.

“You okay Steve?” He asked. Steve looked him in the face, the usually friendly and warm look replaced with something...else. Concern?

No, not concern. Pity.

“I...headache.” He said, massaging his temples. Bruce shifted, nodding.

“Phil told me you were confused this morning. About where you were. About you and him.” He wasn’t asking, he was stating facts at Steve.

“A little disorientated, yeah.”

“Steven,” did Bruce just use his actual name? “Phil said that you looked like a wild animal that’d just woken up in a cage. That you were terrified and confused.”

He just shrugged. What could he even say to that aside from agreeing with it?

Bruce sighed, hands folding in his lap. “Tell me what you remember about last night?” His voice was gentle, but there wasn’t any sentiment in it. Bruce wasn’t talking to him as a friend; he was talking to him like a patient. Steve was just a person to him right now. A variable. And he felt like it. So he kept quiet, letting out a small breath mixed with a noise of uncertainty. He didn’t want to talk.

“Steve I know this is horrible, I do,” Bruce reassured him with that almost fake tone, “but if you don’t tell me we won’t be able to work out what’s wrong with you. We need to narrow down our field of view okay?” He nodded to him as he pulled out a small notepad and pen from the inside of his jacket.

Steve took a breath. If it meant answers, then fine. He told Bruce about the docks he’d been at. It had been dark, and foggy, mist pooling around his ankles as he’d walked between huge freight hauling crates. Alone. Bruce looked at him with a strange glance, but let him finish. He’d gone into them one at a time, finding nothing in each one, every failure beginning to weigh on him more and more. He’d felt...angry. Annoyed. Confused. Even a little bit scared. Apprehensive.

“Then I just remember opening one up and suddenly everything felt cold and painful and...it’s hazy after that. I just remember the alarm going off.” He finished, Bruce completely unemotive as he finished writing down what Steve had been saying.

“Interesting. And when Phil walked out of the bathroom, you were confused as to who he was?”

“No I-I recognised him. I just didn’t know why he was there. I mean I was expecting Tony but-“

“Tony?” That caused Bruce’s eyebrows to shoot up, in surprise. “You haven’t spoken about Tony for a while now...” He mused, causing Steve to shift in discomfort. “Tell me, why were you thinking that Tony would come out of the bathroom?”

Steve blushed, rubbing a hand through his hair (a habit he’d picked up from Tony weirdly enough.) “W-well...I was expecting him to come out because we live together.” He said bluntly. Bruce just...stared at him, in disbelief.

“O...kay.” He wrote that down too apparently. “So...you thought you and Tony lived together?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean yesterday...We were sitting here, in the tower, me, you Tony and Clint, and we were playing cards, strip poker; I remember because Barton kept trying to convince you to take your clothes off,” he saw Bruce frown deeply at the notion, “and then we got a call from SHIELD, that something was happening around the docks, so we suited up and-“

“Wait, suited up?”

“Yeah.” Steve blinked. “I went down to the lab and grabbed my shield and put on my uniform and we-“

“Your Captain America uniform?” Bruce’s voice sounded incredulous. Steve smiled; finally he was getting somewhere!

“Yeah! Fury said we had a bogey at the dock, so when me and Clint were suited up, we went first to scout it out, and decided to split up because it’d be faster to cover an entire dock’s worth of freight shipments to find one bogey right?” He remembered now. It hadn’t been a dream it was all coming back to-

“Okay, okay, Steve...stop.” Bruce sighed, sounding somewhere between annoyed and resigned. Steve’s smile dropped immediately.

“Bruce?”

“We got so far...” the doctor leaned back, running his hands through his hair as he exhaled deeply, and Steve did not like the look on his face. “You don’t remember what happened yesterday?”

“I just told you-“

“No Steve. What you told me about was your dream. You’ve forgotten what really happened yesterday and substituted it with a dream instead so you can cope with your life. This has happened before remember?” Steve gave him a blank stare and Bruce closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers down the bridge of his nose. “You really don’t remember what happened yesterday?”

Steve remained silent.

“Right,” Bruce stood up, taking his phone out and calling someone. “Hey, it’s me. He doesn’t remember what happened yesterday at all...No I think...I think he’s regressed again. It must’ve been the alcohol last night...no, no don’t blame yourself Phil. None of us thought...I thought he’d be out of this cycle by now. I know...I know. Look, I think we better call Betty, Clint and Tash. See if we can hammer this back in like last time okay?...okay. I’ll bring him down.”

~~

It was a rare thing for Steve to feel so small, but right now as he sat at the head of the circle of friends, Phil on his right side wearing a permanent expression of worry, Bruce on his left with pen and paper in hand, and the others sat facing him in a semicircle, he honestly felt like he was on trial.

“Now Steve, you’re not on trial here,” Bruce looked at him, and Steve nearly rolled his eyes (although Tony did that for him apparently), “we’re just here to help you. Just remember that. Can you do that?”

“If he could remember things in the first place we wouldn’t be here.” Tony spat, looking at his nails, “actually do I even have to be here?” He looked at Bruce, who just gave him a small glare.

“Your presence at the party last night, and the fact Steve thinks he was here in the tower with you playing cards, means that yes, you have to be here.”

He heard Stark mutter something about Bruce and his pay, but the doctor paid it no mind, looking up at Clint who had taken the seat next to Phil. “Clint, were you at any point yesterday, sat down with me, Tony and Steve playing cards?”

“No.” Clint replied curtly.

“And did you and Steve at any point go down to the docks to look through freighter containers?”

“Why would I?” He looked at Steve with a raised eyebrow. Wow, Rogers sure had some funky cover-ups didn’t he?

“Pepper, Natasha, Betty.” Bruce moved on, speaking to the two women who were sat side by side, “can you both tell Steve what happened yesterday.”

“Well,” Pepper took the stage first, “I needed help with decorating for the party, so I called Phil and asked if he and Steve would come over whilst yourself and Clint took Tony out to keep him entertained whilst we prepared.” She looked Steve straight in the eyes. “You helped me hang up all the ceiling decorations because I couldn’t reach.”

From next to Bruce, Betty spoke, “me and Natasha had gone out to get the cake Pepper had ordered because she was worrying about the organisation of the tower. Here,” she pulled a piece of paper out of her bag, passing it over to Steve who took it gently, “I thought this would help jog your memory.”

Steve looked down at it, hands quivering slightly. A receipt for the day before from the cake specialists in the city. He closed his eyes; this didn’t make any sense to him! If this had happened why didn’t he remember? Why was his brain insisting that this party had never happened?

“Steve?” He felt Phil’s hand on his back and he repressed the urge to shudder.

“I’m fine just...thinking.” He half lied.

“Here,” Natasha pulled out her phone, accessing one of the applications on it and passing it to him once he’d opened his eyes again, “these might help.” Steve nodded at her and smiled as he took the phone, looking down at the screen.

Photos. Actual photos. He flicked through them, each one causing his heart to pang in his chest, and his brain to hurt more than it was.

Pictures of Bruce and Tony dancing on a table (incredibly drunk-wasn’t he worried about Hulk?), Clint and Natasha kissing, him and Phil curled up on the sofa together both with a bottle of beer in hand, Pepper and Tony holding wine glasses saying cheers to the camera...Steve couldn’t help but notice how Tony’s shirt hung open showing off his collar bone and the pale skin there, the way the camera flash caught the colour just right, and how...

Blue. No blue. Wait.

He looked from the phone to Tony and back again, heart thudding against his chest. His arc reactor. His arc reactor was missing. “To-Tony.” His voice sounded panicked now as he stood up, immediately grabbing Tony by the shoulders. The group looked almost worried.

“What are you doing Rogers?!” Tony spat at him, having no idea what was going on.

“Where is it? The arc reactor? _Where?!_ ”

Stark looked at him like he was going to hit him. “Where it always is-“

“It’s not-It’s not there. The shrapnel! Tony what about the shrapnel!” Steve felt the panic rising and overtaking. This wasn’t the time for a panic attack, but he couldn’t...Tony couldn’t survive without the reactor. It kept him from dying. He didn’t care if he was with Pepper or if he was giving Steve the filthiest look right now or if he hated Steve; He would die without the reactor.

And Steve, despite everything in this world telling him no and being so wrong, did not want his lover to die.

He barely registered Tony pushing him off, or how he fell to his knees as he struggled to breathe, gasping out fragmented sentences between pained breaths, “Iron man...suit won’t work...need the reactor...can’t let you die...”. The world was spinning and his head was hurting him something fierce. Everything felt like a pressure on the inside of his mind that didn’t have the room to expand and his entire body hurt and everything was pain and confusion and-he couldn’t breathe, can’t breathe, cold, ice, trapped, sinking, drowning.

Dying.

~~

“Steve?”

Fuzzy...everything was bright. Painful. Eyes sensitive.

“Steve? Can you hear me? Can you move your hand for me if you can?”

Fingers twitched on his right hand, curling slightly into a fist before relaxing. Scared. Need to protect self overriding his mind.

“Easy big guy.” Voices. Phil? Sounded like Phil.

“Can you sit up for me?” That was Bruce for definite. Pushing up on his hands, Steve managed to get upright as his eyes blinked into focus, a glass of water pressed against his lips.

“wha-?”

“Asprin. It’ll help the headache go down.”

He didn’t ask, his hand shakily coming up to hold the glass as he drank it down slowly. The feel of the cold water against his throat...it should have scared him, but it didn’t. Not anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked as Steve lowered the glass, the water all but drained from it.

“Muggy. What happened?”

Bruce and Phil exchanged glances, Phil looking down and Bruce looking awkward. “You were looking at the pictures from yesterday and you began freaking out about the arc reactor. Telling Tony it was missing and that he was going to die and that you needed to find it. That you couldn’t let him die.” Steve looked at Bruce feeling lost, and then to Phil, who couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“The arc reactor. It should be in his chest. The missile...”

“Exploded and lodged shrapnel in there and the arc reactor kept it out. He made it in a cave with scraps. And he’s a super hero called Iron Man.” Phil said, resigned. Steve looked at him confused.

Bruce sighed. “Steve...you have hundreds of these stories. You sometimes think I’m this giant monster of anger and rage that has unbelievable strength. That it was created in an accident in a lab. That Clint is an expert marksman who uses a bow and never misses a shot, and was raised in a circus and works as a special agent for this...SHIELD agency. And that Natasha is a Russian super spy who works with Clint at SHIELD. And there’s the God of Thunder as well from Norse mythology, Thor. And you...” Bruce paused looking at him, “You’re a soldier who had a serum injected into him to make you the perfect human. Peak strength. Intelligent. Always there to save the day...We know, Steve. You’ve...told us hundreds of times over.”

Steve looked at them, his stomach turning, or was that just the room? It felt like every part of him had been thrown down and exposed on the floor.

“They’re just figments of your brain...parts of your psyche you’ve given a form and attributed to us, your friends. To help you cope. To help you forget.” Bruce told him, firmly, and he didn’t miss how Phil’s thumb trailed against the inside of his calf, trying to ease out the tensed muscle there. But it wouldn’t be eased because how could Steve be relaxed?

“The Avengers-“

“Aren’t real Steve. I thought after last time this had happened you’d stuck with it. Gotten over this coping mechanism and faced the truth. We were so happy Steve...you were getting better and now this. All over again.” Phil’s voice sounded like it was cracking, and he excused himself, the door slamming slightly behind him as he walked out, causing Steve to flinch. He looked after Coulson with big blue eyes full of apology.

Bruce studied him. “You still don’t remember do you? Your mind won’t let you remember, will it?” he asked quietly, catching Steve’s attention.

“Remember what?” His voice barely above a whisper by this point.

Nodding, Bruce stood up. “Wait here...it’d be best if I showed you.”

~~

Bruce soon returned with a laptop, keeping it hidden from Steve as he navigated his way around, finally turning the screen to show him. There was a photo of some men with him in the middle. He recognised them instantly.

“The howling commandos.” He looked at Bruce, and he didn’t seem to say no. Finally, something he knew existed! “We were a team back in the war.”

“Which war?”

“...pardon?”

“Which war Steve?”

“The second world war.”

“No Steve,” Bruce shook his head, “look at the date on the picture. What does it say?”

Steve leaned in closer to get a look. “15 May 2005.” He looked at Bruce like it was impossible. The doctor seemed to understand that look fine.

“They were your troop in the war, and you their captain. A specialist unit sent to Iraq to try and find our enemies there. Whilst you were there,” he scrolled down the page to show Steve the images there, “your team was captured. A video was sent to the government that got leaked onto the internet before they took it down. They were demanding a ransom in exchange for your lives. The government wouldn’t pay up so...” Bruce took a steadying breath, “they killed your troops, one by one. Tortured you all, and then when they had the information they needed, shot.” Steve grimaced at the photos of the familiar faces laying down in the dirt, blood pooling around their heads where clear bullet wounds and brain matter could be seen laying nearby.

“These were sent to a TV station and told to air under a bomb threat. The public saw these Steve. But you...you saw it firsthand. So you invented your own little story. About how you were back in the second World War and that you froze in ice and woke up in the future. That’s how you cope with their deaths. It wasn’t your fault because you were a hero and they died living long and happy lives after the war.”

“But,” he tried to fight back the nausea that stirred inside of him, “there _was_ a plane. I-I crashed it, in the ice, and I did drown...” his voice faded. “I still have nightmares.”

“Water torture.” Bruce corrected him. “It’s how they got the information out of you. You said they did it to you, up to three times a day sometimes. That’s what the dreams are Steve. Not you crashing a plane into ice and drowning. You’re coping with remembering being held under the water for so long.”

Steve went dead silent, looking over the pictures, eyes wide and watery. No this...this couldn’t be true. “What about Peggy?” He slammed his eyes shut, trying to keep the emotion back.

Bruce looked pained. “She was your girlfriend before you were deported. When you came back, she...couldn’t handle your PTSD. You broke up and moved into cheap rental accomodation.”

“Then what about the ave-everyone else? How did I meet them all then?” His voice was verging on desperation, insanity. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be the truth.

“I’m your psychiatrist assigned to you personally because of what happened to you. You met everyone else through me. Coulson was a friend of mine who had hit hard times and was living in the same cheap rented flats as you. I introduced you two. I helped him get a job with Tony who I knew through his own therapy sessions with me. Natasha is Tony’s P.A and Clint is her boyfriend. Pepper is Tony’s partner. And Betty is mine.”

This was all wrong, all of it.

“A-and Nick Fury? Maria Hill? What about SHIELD?”

“All figments of your mind based on your army work Steve. Nothing more.” Bruce looked at him, and for once, Steve could see an honest look of sorrow in his eyes.

Steve sat, staring through him. No...no something still didn’t add up here. Something was still wrong. Nagging at his mind. He had to find the fault line. Prove he wasn’t insane.

“O-Okay. So...so what about the team. The superheroes? If I wanted a different reality why would I choose something that’s so dangerous and could get me killed?” It was a valid question. If Steve was running from death and misery why would he create a world where it could happen any second?

Bruce nodded, almost like he agreed, but then he spoke and shattered the illusion. “I thought you’d ask that. It’s not the first time you have. You always use this as your trump card...sorry.” he closed the laptop lid. “The avengers, from what I can work out are the different parts of your psyche manifested as heroes to make them all seem...better.”

“Let’s stark with the Hulk, since he’s the easiest. Hulk is your anger and pain and fear. The reason you attribute this to me is because I’m always around when you’re too scared to remember the truth and I make you. It makes you angry that you work so hard to keep it hidden only for it to be exposed repeatedly. Even if you don’t remember it.”

“Then we have Thor. Thor is compassion and happiness. You always say that he came from a different world and he’s a protector of earth, always high in spirits. You’ve always held both happiness and kindness as the same thing; when you’re helping people and doing the right thing, you’re happy, and if someone is sad you’re not.  Even though the person you described when you talk about him looks nothing like Phil, I think that’s really who he is. He’s different because you don’t feel a person could truly harness all of these traits so fully. So you revere him, make him above humanity, a powerful protector, because Phil protects you. He’s as good as a god in your eyes.”

“Black Widow, the female Russian spy? She’s your feminine side, or how you view yourself if you were to be a woman. Despite your female aspects, you’re still the hard-wired and trained soldier underneath. You never let anything stop you from achieving what you want if you want it; that’s a lot like Natasha in her job with Tony.”

“Hawkeye, he’s always been a bit of a tricky one, but he represents your attitude and how you react around people. You keep your distance in conversations, staying around the edges until you find the opportunity to go in and join. You attribute these qualities to his archery, and the fact he never misses. He also represents your charisma, in that you never fail to make a bad impression. Clint was one of the first people you spoke to when you began being social again. You two spent the entire night talking about sports and movies, and you met because you were both skirting around conversations finding the person to target and talk to. That’s why he’s your sniper.”

“And then Iron man. He was a fun one to crack. Iron Man is your intelligence, your ability to learn as quickly as you do. Like a computer. The way you think is calculated and logical. That’s why you see him as Tony. You think he’s emotionless. You know he’s smart but not in the good way. He doesn’t use his technology to make things that heal; he uses his machines to hurt people. That is why he’s a man inside a machine.”

“Which leaves us with Captain America. Captain America is your emotions. You invented him as an alter ego to yourself because of all the mistakes you made and the people you lost because of them, even though it wasn’t your fault. All those bad things about you that you hate and despise don’t exist with this character. He always makes the right call. Always protects his team. Never makes a mistake or loses a person because of it. It’s why he’s the team leader. He keeps everything in line and working and smooth so you don’t have to remember the pain of not being your own image of perfection. The old Steve Rogers, the one who made mistakes and let people die was ‘upgraded’ and wiped from existence with the invention of this ‘Super Soldier’.”

Steve listened, letting the information sink in, body shaking. Was this all his life was? Fake memories. Images and emotions and experiences that were phantoms; that could be labelled and sorted into little boxes and put in their right place, all back in order until the next time he messed them up. He didn’t realise he’d started crying, or that he even could cry right now.

“Do you understand Steve?” Bruce looked at him before moving and pulling Steve into a small hug. An emotionless one, but the sentiment was there somewhere.

“What do I do?” he asked, everything feeling sombre and meaningless as the world he knew was torn to pieces and factored away, the obscuring mists of his mind peeling back to reveal truth.

“You accept that it happened. You learn to live with the truth once and for all. You become stronger from it.”

 “I’m Steven Grant Rogers.”

“Yes.”

 Former captain of the Howling Commandos who were killed in action in 2005.”

“Yes Steve.”

“There are no Avengers, superheroes, or SHIELD. They’re just...dreams. Not real.”

Bruce nodded, letting go of him. “It’ll get easier in time Steve. I promise.”

He nodded as the dull blade of reality began to sink and scar down the length of his entire being. All of this had allowed coming to the one conclusion that his heart had not wanted to let go of, no matter how much his head screamed that his emotions were wrong, that it was a lie, a fallacy built on a foundation of nothing.

There was no him and Tony.

There never was.

There never would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bang.**

**Bang bang bang.**

“Rogers?! I know you’re in there!”

His head turned slowly to the door where the sound was coming from. Someone else to try and talk to him? His whole life had been turned on its head since that day and somehow his friends just expected him to be okay with it ‘because he’d done so well before’.

It had started out good. He’d spent a lot of time crying and saying how life wasn’t fair. And Coulson had been there the entire time to make it better. They had been hard days. Then the crying stopped. Not just the crying, but the emotions. What was the point in feeling? Feeling hurt. Feeling was weak. He stopped caring about things, about people.  He became antisocial, quiet. Coulson had tried, he really had, but Steve had become too much. It had been hard, but Phil had walked out. He needed his space and his own sanity and he couldn’t sit around and dote on Steve for eternity. And Steve had let him go, because Phil deserved better than him. He didn’t deserve a man who was broken and hastily glued back together with the world’s worst super glue.

Clint had come over a few times after to try and help, but eventually Steve stopped answering the door to him. He didn’t want people. He wanted alone. Solitude. Solitude was just so much easier. Soon Clint had stopped coming. Other worried voices came over, sometimes several days in a row, sometimes not. Each one he recognised, made a mental note not to answer, not to let them see the damage, the oh so irreparable damage. The less they knew, the less they were hurt, and the safer they were.

Time no longer had a bearing. Steve didn’t run life by a clock. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, days and nights filled with endless and mindless television. Background noise to give the illusion he wasn’t alone. But he was, and he knew it. Days all jumbled into one, Monday becoming Wednesday, becoming Sunday, becoming every damn day of his life because they were all the same anyway. Even if he looked at a calendar, he couldn’t have told you with any coherency the day of year.

“Rogers, so help me I’m going to kill you!”

There it was, the voice again. Who could it be? Everyone gave up on him. Maybe it was death finally come to take him. That was all he deserved.

Slowly he pushed himself up, grunting at the exertion of movement. When had been the last time he’d actually gotten off the sofa? He practically lived on it until the bathroom or kitchen called to be used. He was low, he was not that low.

He unlocked the door, letting it swing open.

“...Stark?”

The shorter man pushed in past him. “What the fuck? Did something die in here? Actually don’t answer that...” Tony looked around the apartment. Aside from the sofa, which was covered in Steve’s duvet, empty drink cans, packets of food and tissues, the rest of the apartment looked practically unlived in.

“Fuck Rogers,” Tony turned and looked at him in disbelief, “when did your life go down the drain?”

“Why are you here?” Steve asked, voice monotone.

“I’m here because your depression is causing my front staff to fail. Do you have any idea what your shitty attitude has done to Phil? I haven’t seen him in weeks. Do you have any idea how valuable he is to my company? Even Clint and Natasha have been working worse since you started pulling the ‘I’m a special snowflake’ curtain down over everyone’s eyes.” Tony stalked around the apartment, not missing the way Steve was watching him in...adoration? Give him a break...

“Don’t even begin to think I’m here out of compassion because I’m not. Let’s get one thing straight; from the minute I saw you I hated you.” He walked over to Steve, backing the soldier up against the door. “You think just because you were in a war, you’re better than anyone. Anyone disagrees with you and they’re wrong, no two ways about it. You lectured /me/ on morals and ethics of weapons trading when you let an entire platoon of people under you command /die/. No wonder they discharged you from the army. You’re a fucking head case.” Tony snarled at him, jabbing at Steve’s chest harshly with his finger.

Tony kept talking, but the words went right through Steve. What made him tick was Tony’s tone. It was cruel, a hot knife through butter, taking delight in ripping Steve apart now that people weren’t around to stop Tony’s opinions from coming out. His eye twitched, hand curling up into a fist at Steve’s side. The more Tony spoke, the more Steve felt his emotions returning.

“Know what I think? Those bastards should have done the world a favour and killed you instead of your troop. Phil would have been happier. America would have been happier, hell the world would have been happier. You don’t deserve to live. ” Tony twisted the knife deeper and deeper.

Something inside Steve snapped, grabbing Tony by the collar and slamming him into the wall, holding him there.

“You’re right.” He growled. “You’re right and I have to live with that knowledge every day. Do you wanna know how that makes me feel, Stark? Do you wanna know?” Steve’s face was dangerously close to Tony’s. He could practically taste him from here. It was strange, that once there was a time when Steve ached and pained after this man. Lied to Phil about it to his face, told him he was the only one when really it was all a scam because he couldn’t have Tony. He closed his eyes, kicking himself mentally. This wasn’t his Tony...no. Tony was never his

_Steve!_

His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, dropping Tony as he scrambled back.

_Shit! Steve!_

What was this?! He could...he could hear voices. He looked at Tony wide eyed as the genius looked at him with a mixture of fear and anger. Steve tried to talk before a pain shot through his chest. He choked, collapsing to his knees. Everything felt tight suddenly, making it hard to breathe and see. Panic attack? No, it wasn’t that. Asthma? He hadn’t suffered from asthma since he was a kid so it couldn’t be that either. No, he knew what this was. The same thing that had happened to his father; he was going into cardiac arrest.

“To-ny!” He felt himself hit the floor, hand ripping at his chest like he could claw his heart out and stop it from hurting. “Help...me!” Steve begged him through the pain pulsing through him like nothing he’d experienced before. He would have cried if he could have, but the world was a blurred vision and noise seemed so distant.

His head hit the floor.

_~~_

_Steve?! Steve!_

_It’s okay...he’ll be okay..._

_I know but...shit...Steve...Steve please...you need to wake up...you need to-_

_“_ -wake up. Captain Rogers?”

Steve felt weak. It had been a long time really since he’d felt this physically powerless. His brain ran him through the checklist; toes and fingers, feet, hands, legs, arms, body, neck...everything seemed to be in place and working. That was a relief. At least he wasn’t dead, or worse.

“Captain Rogers,” The voice spoke again, “can you open your eyes for me?”

“Where...am I?” He asked as his eyes gradually opened, shutting again immediately at the harshness of the light as his mind adjusted still, the voice becoming clearer. It sounded foreign. Familiar, but he didn’t know why.

“You’re in a safe place captain,” why did he keep calling him that? “It is okay now.”

Slowly but surely Steve opened his eyes back up, forcing them to stay open even against the overbearing bright white of the room. “Can you sit up for me Herr Rogers?”

The voice clicked in his mind and Steve shot up, much faster than should have been possible for him in his current state. He stared at the man in the lab coat, back to him and let out a shaky sigh. For a second there, that had reminded him too much of-

“Well that was...unexpected, for you to be so spry after such a stressful occurrence.” Steve felt the blood drain from his face as Johan Schmidt stood at the foot of his bed, holding a needle in his hand as he drew up a liquid from the bottle he held in the other. Steve didn’t know what it was, and nor did he want to know.

“Sch-Schmidt?!”

The doctor looked at him in confusion and then at the name-tag on his jacket and chuckled. “I see you also have excellent eyesight also. I must say they truly meant it when they called you the ‘miracle case’ Captain.” Schmidt walked over to him, not even fazed by the looks Steve was giving him, like he was seeing a ghost. “Now if you would just hold still and let me inject you with this.”

“What is that!?” Steve snarled, formulating a plan in his head as Schmidt closed in, brandishing the needle.

“It is just a mild sedative to help you relax. You’ve had a very stressful day Captain and we need you to be calm for the head doctor.” Schmidt told him calmly, the needle nearly close enough to inject Steve. Before the man could react, his wrist was grabbed and twisted, forcing him to drop the needle with a cry of pain. Steve stood, using his power and weight to push the doctor against the wall, arm dangerously far up the other man’s back almost causing it to break. He fumbled back for the needle, holding it against the man’s neck.

“What is it really?” Steve’s voice was dark, the doctor scrabbling under his grip. He was so interested in holding the doctor still, he didn’t notice the nurse outside who had walked past and seen what had happened.

“Captain-“

“DON’T...call me that you HYDRA bastard.” Steve closed his eyes but didn’t waver. He had no idea where he was, and right now he didn’t care. He knew this man. This man was dead. He shouldn’t be here regardless of what memories of his were the right ones. “How about I inject you with this ‘sedative’ and we’ll see, we’ll see what you were really going to put in me, huh?” he taunted, the doctor yelping and whining in pain under his grip.

There was a sudden clang as the door burst open, and Steve barely had time to look around in shock before two huge men were wrestling him off of the doctor. Steve screamed and lashed out as his arms were pinned and tied together. Eventually, somehow, the needle found it’s way into Steve’s skin, and h went slack, collapsing in a relaxed heap against the bed.

When he woke up, the scene wasn’t so welcoming. The plain white walls were a dull washed out grey, and the room looked like an army interrogation room. A look to his left confirmed that, in fact, it was an interrogation room, complete with a two way mirror no doubt. Up in the corner sat a camera. Bastards...

The door opened and Steve looked up as a woman walked in, dressed in a suit and blonde hair tied back into a tight bun, full red lips and kind eyes. She took a seat opposite Steve, sliding a file down in front of her as she did. He just sat, watching her. His hands were still bound and resting on the table in front of him, but he had no intention of breaking out of them. Not that he was strong enough to do so; what was he, a super soldier? Ha.

“Captain Rogers.” She said, her words as kind as her face.

“Please, call me Steve. It’ll make things a lot...easier.” He asked her, as politely as he could muster under such conditions. She nodded, seeming okay with that.

“If that’s what makes you happy Steve,” she toyed with the file in front of her before speaking again. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“...no.”

She nodded again. That had been expected. “Dr. Banner called us to let us know you had suffered cardiac arrest after attacking Mr. Stark.” Her eyes flickered over him as if to study his reaction. “You were sent to the Methodist hospital where you were pronounced dead on arrival. However...” she looked at him once again, “without medical intervention you suddenly became responsive and your body...well, for lack of a better word, restarted itself.”

Now that made sense, what Johan had said about being a ‘miracle case.’ “So I came back without anyone doing anything to me...is that why I’m here?”

“No,” the woman shook her head, “but you being here is a consequence of that I suppose you could say.” She opened the file and read out a paragraph. “This was written down by Dr. Banner when you first started your treatment here.”

_Patient [name: Captain Steven Grant Rogers] has shown incredible and exaggerated changes in personality and temperament since he has left active duty. He often has repetitive dreams of drowning and seeing people dying. When questioned about these Steve will either deny that he knows about them resorting to making up stories to avoid facing his past, or he will lash out either verbally or physically to the point of restraint and, on several occasions, requiring submission. Patient does seem aware of his surroundings however, asking often when he can leave the hospital; his mentality seems to change between the character of Captain America and Steve’s true identity, which directly corresponds to the questions and moods Steve is in when spoken to. Surprisingly, it is the alternative identity that seems to e the more complying and sedate one._

_Patient current stability level: Unstable  
Likelihood of rehabilitation: Possible_

Steve had shut his eyes, listening to her read out the report. It wasn’t the full one, and he knew that because there was more than one page in that file. Still, the pieces were fitting together now, Steve looking up as she finished.

“I’m in an asylum. Because I attacked Tony Stark and I have violent tendencies which the army thought had been solved the last time they sent me away.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. “I’m a dangerous man and you want to keep me under lock and key where I can’t hurt anyone else.”

The woman shifted in discomfort, but it was subtle. Steve only saw it because he was looking for it. “Steve,” she flipped the file shut, “you’re not here to be hidden away. You’re here to be helped. You’re a good man. You just need time to adjust. It’s different for everybody. Some people take longer than others, regress harder. It’s just a hurdle on the road to recovery and we’re going to help you.” Her tone was soft but Steve found no comfort in it. The worst part was that he couldn’t even remember back to when he was last in here. Then again, even if he did, he had no way of knowing it was true. All of his truths were hollow, everything depending on the outside world for verification.

How did he even discern reality from fantasy anymore?

“You must trust me. If we’re going to help you, you have to help us to help you.”

His sad eyes looked up at her full of hopelessness. What other choice did he have anyway. He gave a small nod, no emotion behind it. He just wanted to leave. Now.

The door behind the woman clicked open and two tall and muscular men walked in, going and standing either side of Steve as he stood. They went to escort him out before he stopped, next to the woman.

“Excuse me, Miss? If I’m going to trust you...I’m going to need a name.”

“Carter. Dr. Sharon Carter.”

He gave her an amused yet melancholy grin. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Steve?”

“Sorry...you just remind me of someone I used to know is all. Thank you, Dr. Carter.”

~~

The metal cell they’d put Steve in was tiny. At least, it was for Steve. Mentally he measured it out to roughly 6 by 8 feet. The bed was awful and uncomfortable to lie down on, let alone to sleep on. The tap dripped every so often, the sound bouncing off of the hard cold walls and amplifying the noise of the water as it hit the basin. The door itself was made of steel; heavy, not unmoveable, but definitely not breakable by any human standard. These doors were intended to keep people in. After the interview with Sharon, he’d been led here by the two guards, handed over a blanket, pillow and bed sheet, and ushered into the room and left there.

All alone.

Not that Steve had any one to be with anyway.

For the first hour he repeatedly walked up and down the room, pacing just to keep his mind from stagnating. Maybe that was why he’d gone insane? The dullness and confusion in his life finally getting to him? No that didn’t make sense. He had to remember back, had to think and really push himself no matter how hard it was. He’d collapsed down onto the bed in a sitting position, feet set firmly against the floor and elbows leaning on his legs, face in his hands. He’d barely moved from that position until the little sliding door to the cell was opened.

“We’ve been asked to give this to you.” A voice said as a small brown envelope was pushed through. Steve got up and stretched, walking over to take it.

“Thank-“ The small door was slammed shut and he was left alone once again. Sighing he returned to his previous position, carefully opening the envelope and tipping it up. Out fell an asthma inhaler and a small piece of card. Odd...Picking up the card, he looked at what was written on it.

_Steve, in light of your recent medical condition, we have provided you with your own personal medication for your breathing problems. We have reviewed your medical file and have capable staff on hand should you feel you need any sort of treatment. If you experience any symptoms of the following illnesses, please contact a member of staff a.s.a.p.  
Dr. S. Carter._

_PTO for list of illnesses and symptoms._

He read over the list of symptoms and stared at the card, mind turning. How could he be asthmatic if he was in the army? The army would never have allowed him to join on his asthma alone, let alone every other disease written down here. That made no logical sense. In fact the only logic this proved was that he could never have been in the army.

So how was he a captain of a troop?

He laid the sheet of paper down on the bed, massaging his temples as he felt the stress headache returning. This was impossible. The only way he’d gotten into the army last time was because of the serum; it made him better, improved him to the point of curing his ailments. That was how he’d gotten in.

Except he didn’t because Captain America didn’t exist, because he wasn’t from the 1940’s, because it was all just a dream, something not real, a coping mechanism, just a fake life with fake friends and a fake lover and everything around him was fake, even he was fake and-

He couldn’t breathe. He was panicking too much. Pump...he needed the pump. He grabbed it, scrabbling with it until he managed to inhale the medicine, hands shaking as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, the medication working.

The medication was _working_.

He lowered his hands, dropping the pump to the floor when he was confident he could breathe without it. That...was impossible. But it was the only thing that made sense.

Steve could not, and would not, have ever been in the army with such an extensive list of illnesses.

He had to get out of here.

Waiting was the worst part. Waiting for the lights to go out in the corridor, to stop creeping in through the cracks in the door. His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly before he made his move. Ear pressed against his door, he paused until he heard footsteps leaving the corridor, the main door closing behind them. He probably had little time to act, but it was better than no time.

By this point, Steve had come to a conclusion. Everything he thought was real was a lie. However, everything he was being told was real was illogical. He had no idea what was reality and what wasn’t any more. He was tired of people telling him things.

He was going to decide for himself now.

His first port of call was breaking down the door, if it was even possible. He felt the door, lightly tapping it. Some form of metal, probably steel. Quite sonorous, pretty solid from the sound of it. Not impossible to break, but nearly. These things were designed to keep people in, and they were good at that job.

But right now, Steve needed out.

He backed himself up, giving himself a grip against the floor with his left foot, and kicked out hard with his right, hitting just next to where he knew the door’s locking system would be. It rang with a low resounding wave, but it didn’t budge.

He growled, giving it another good kick, and another, over and over until he was tired. His legs ached and his body tired. He couldn’t do it. He walked forward, slumping against the metal door, letting the cold seep into him. He was so tired...

_Steve...please...don’t give up_

His eyes opened and he looked around the room. There it was, that voice again. But where was it coming from? First the apartment, now here.

_Steve I need you._

Maybe he really was insane and hearing voices. Maybe he truly was schizophrenic or had another personality?

_Steve...babe please...come back to me._

Whatever it was, the voice was oddly...soothing. Like a familiar song on a cool wind, caressing him both mentally and physically.

“I can’t...”

_We’ve been through worse than this and come out alive...this is just minor right? Please...you’ve gotta come back._

“It’s too hard...I can’t do it.” He whimpered.

_You’re Captain fucking America. You punched a God in the face and took on aliens with a piece of metal and fancy moves._

“I’m not...he’s not real.”

_Remember?_

“I...I do remember.” He said with a bit more feeling behind it. He couldn’t remember being in Afghanistan, or meeting Phil, or even his entire life. But he did remember Captain America. And the Avengers. And...everything else that wasn’t real.

_You can fight this. I know you can._

He stood up, muscles still achy and tired, but he stood, glaring at the lock with all of his ability to do so.

_Come on Steve! If you can hear me, fight. For me._

He balled his hand into a fist gently, as if to hold something delicate in it.

With the remainder of his strength, Steve took in a deep breath and kicked harder than he ever deemed possible for him.

But not for Captain America.

The door swung open violently, slamming against the wall so hard that when Steve checked, it had left a nice door-shaped indent in it. He smiled, and then laughed. That...that was amazing. As much as he wanted to stay and celebrate his little victory, by now the security would have been notified, meaning he had to run. Where to, he didn’t know, but he had to go.

No plan? No problem.

Steve ran out of the door at the end of the corridor, hearing the people running towards him from the right before he saw them, and even then he only took a split second to check before he was running in the opposite direction, pushing between two guards like they were a piece of paper.

“Sorry!” he shouted back, hoping neither of them was hurt. He may have been on the run and trying to escape, but he wasn’t going to intentionally hurt people who didn’t deserve it, who really were probably only trying to help him.

The closer he got to the exit he found his route to be cut off by the security staff who’d gathered there, blocking him from escape. Part of him told him he could easily fight through, but fighting wouldn’t give him the answers he needed. He needed the truth. He needed freedom.

...whenever he needed to think, he always went to the roof. Without hesitating, he turned back and ran to find the stairs, the security following behind him. Steve had no idea how many flights there were and he didn’t care; as soon as he found them he tore up them like his life depended on it, which for all he knew it currently did.

Steve burst out onto the roof, looking about, feeling sick at the familiarity. Behind him, the building continued up past the stairs into what looked like a hollowed out cone shape. The roof layout itself had a set of stairs leading up to a circular platform that overlooked the city to the right. Timidly, Steve walked over to it, feet feeling heavy as they pressed against the smooth stones that made up the steps. The view from the edge of the platform was breathtaking, almost as good as the view from the top of Stark Tower.

Actually, now he thought about it...it was the exact same view as from the top of Stark tower. Which was impossible right? Then again, Steve had kicked down a metal door so maybe impossible wasn’t the right word...maybe improbable was more appropriate?

“Steve!” He whipped around; shocked to see everyone he knew standing there. How had they gotten there so fast? It would have taken them longer than the time it took between him escaping and making it to the roof.

Shit his head hurt.

“Steve wait!” Phil called out to him, pushing forward to the front, “please just...think about this!” his voice pleaded. He sounded so sad but Steve couldn’t give in. He came here to get answers and to do that, he needed to be strong.

“I’ve thought about it. Actually I’ve thought about a lot over these past few weeks. Like why I can’t remember anything about everything you’ve told me even though you’ve got ‘evidence’ for it, which right now I don’t believe either.”

Phil made a noise like a desperate whine. “Steve please. You just regressed again. We can fix this, and you can come home and be happy and-“

“No!” Steve shouted, “I don’t need fixing. And this,” he motioned to everyone standing there, “this won’t make me happy. Ever since I woke up all I can think about is Tony, Phil. Everyone says I hate him but I don’t. If I loved you, why would I invent an entire world where I’m with Tony?” He felt bad saying it, he really did, but it was true. Steve apparently saw Phil as a Norse god of thunder and yet the only person he ever thought about was Tony.

It made no sense.

Steve looked at Phil dead on, seeing the hurt in his eyes. “You have to let me go Phil. I can’t...stay here. This isn’t me. I just know it isn’t. I can feel it. The memories are too real not to be. I’m sorry.” He felt himself choke slightly, but this was his life. He looked back over his shoulder, backing up to the edge of the circular ledge, only stopping when he felt nothing under his heels.

“I don’t want to!” Coulson screamed back, trying to fight his way over to Steve only to be held back by his friends. “Steve I can’t let you go! I love you!”

The words stung his heart to hear, but he kept his head up. “I know you do Phil. But if you loved me, you’d let me go.” He closed his eyes and took a breath, steadying himself. If he stopped now, he’d lose this forever. He’d never give himself another chance.

_Steve...if you can hear me...I just want you to know I love you okay?_

He smiled a small smile, the corner of his mouth quirking up as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Somewhere in the distance, he could still hear Coulson yelling, but time seemed to slow down painfully so, the only things Steve was aware of being the voice in his mind and his steady heartbeat.

_Remember the time you told me that...sometimes we have to take a leap of faith for the things we love? I didn’t understand it back then but now I do. You fell Steve. You fell through the skies to crash a plane to save everyone’s lives. You took a leap of faith and got back up. And so did I. I...fell through the portal. Took my leap to save this city, no this entire planet. And despite everything, I’d do it again if it meant bringing you back. So please Steve just..._

He opened his eyes, taking one last look before he let his body fall backwards, not hearing Coulson screaming his name as his body went over the edge.

_Come back to me. Wherever you are. Take the leap. I promise, I’ll be here to pick you up when you land._

The voice was right. He’d fallen and gotten up before. He could do it again.

And the world went white.

~~

His eyes shot open and he sat up gasping for air desperately, lungs feeling like they were being starved of oxygen. Something...something in his mouth. Gagging him.

“Steve! Shit my-Banner! Barton! Get the fuck in here will you!?”

He had no idea what was going on. His head was swimming and he felt ill and something was in his mouth and he couldn’t breathe and-

“Hold on Steve, and sorry about this.” it was pulled out and Steve gagged, a firm but gentle hand running up and down his back to help him breathe. “Easy Cap...easy...take a deep breath in and out. In...and out...”

Steve let out a sob as he drew in a breath, hands tightening on the bed sheets. He’d been falling, jumped off a roof and...committed suicide?

“Steve?” He knew that voice. The voice that had been there for him. He looked up with teary eyes, seeing Tony looking at him, worry and relief painted over his face. “Oh god Steve...you’re alive.” Steve grunted as Tony threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re okay...fuck I thought...” he shuddered. Steve just looked ahead, confused before gently bringing his arms up and around Tony to hug him.

He felt real. Tony was really there.

“Am I home?”

“Technnically you’ve been home for the past three days.” Bruce told him, looking relieved himself, although he wasn’t showing it as emotionally as Tony. “After you went down to the docks you-“

“I-I was at the docks?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Clint raised an eyebrow at him, “we went down there because SHIELD asked us to go check the blip remember?”

“Clint,” Bruce scolded him, “Steve’s been unconscious for three days and at one point he nearly died. Cut him a bit of slack. He can’t be a super hero all the time you know?”

“Wait I nearly died?” Steve looked even more shocked now.

“Yeah,” Tony sniffed as he pulled back, pretending like he hadn’t had moisture leaking down his face, “we tried to remove the disk attached to your chest and you went into-“

“Cardiac arrest.”

The three of them looked at him. “How did you...” Tony started.

“Know that?” Bruce finished.

Steve sighed running a hand over his face. He had a lot of explaining to do.


	3. Chapter 3

“Woah, okay, hold up and lemme get this straight.” Clint stood up from where he’d been perched on the armrest of Bruce’s chair and paced around the coffee table. Bruce was sat cross legged, finger interlaced with each other as he listened to Steve tell his tale. Steve himself was resting against Tony, taking up the entirety of the leather sofa, cracks and wear all where they should be. In fact, everything back to where it should be.

“So you and Coulson were a thing, we all worked for Tony and he was even more of an insufferable asswipe than he is now, and in whatever universe you decided to go to, Bruce was your psychiatrist and told you we were all just figments of your imagination. Then you went insane, attacked Tony, went into cardiac arrest and died, got resurrected, ended up in a mental hospital, worked out that shit was stupid, got to the roof and killed yourself. And even though this was in the timeframe of about a month, it was actually only three days?”

“That’s pretty much it.” Steve shrugged, enjoying the feel of Tony running his worried hand through his hair. He could get used to this.

“Sheesh. And I thought we had a shit time here.” Clint made his way back over to the chair, leaning back against the arm as he had done before.

Steve looked down slightly. “What happened to me here?”

Tony shifted underneath Steve and the soldier felt the discomfort of the question ooze from him; even Clint looked like he didn’t want to talk, like he was guilty.

Looked like it was up to Bruce then.

“When you and Clint were at the docks, you opened a crate and got attacked by someone. He used these special disk things to drain your energy and powers, keeping you unconscious as he slowly killed you. Clint ended up finding you and taking the guy on alone but he’d already gotten enough of your powers that he was pretty tough. When me and Tony turned up though...it was an easy take down from there on out.” He rubbed a hand over Clint’s back, the archer still looking guilty. It had been his idea to split up after all. His idiocy nearly got Steve killed.

“So we got you back here to try and remove the disk. We let you recover for the first 24 hours because you were really weak. When we finally came to take the disk off, the thing was like...hardwired into your body, like it had joined with you. We were as careful as we could be but,” not Bruce looked guilty, “not enough. One slip up and you flat-lined. We barely got you back in time, but we did, with the disk off too.”

So that had been how he’d miraculously come back from the dead. They’d revived his body in this reality.

“After that it was just a case of waiting until you woke up. You were struggling to breathe this morning, so we put you on a ventilator.” The asthma attack, now it made sense. “And then you just...came round out of nowhere.”

“I took a leap of faith.” Steve gave a small smile, feeling Tony looking down at him, but he said nothing, hand stilling in his hair for a second before it continued it’s moement.

“Yeah. And whilst Tony and Bruce were playing nurses with you, I was at SHIELD finding out who this bastard was. Calls himself the controller. He uses those disks to steal other people’s powers whilst killing them. Makes them hallucinate until they waste away once their powers have been drained. He said it was a mental thing as well as a physical one. Like...losing the will to live.”

“Yeah...I can tell you first hand that’s exactly what it was like.” Steve frowned as his hand moved up to grab Tony’s from his hair, pulling it down to his chest and holding it tightly.

“But you’re back now.” Tony leaned down and nuzzled Steve’s hair, “and I’ve never been happier.”

Steve smiled up at him, seeing the earnest look in Tony’s eyes. “Same Tony. Same.”

~~

Steve and Tony had gone to bed early that night to have some alone time together, ending up with Steve uncharacteristically curled against Tony rather than the opposite being true. At some point during the night he woke up, not feeling Tony there.

“Tony?”

“Master Stark is outside on the roof sir. The temperature is cool enough to go out without a dressing gown.” JARVIS’ voice came from nowhere, making Steve jump at first, but he quickly relaxed. It was okay, he was home now. Disembodied voices were kind of the norm here.

“Thanks J.” He slid out of the bed, pulling on his shirt and discarded sweat pants which had somehow made their way onto the floor, sliding on his slippers before padding out of the room.

“Shall I inform him you’re going to the roof sir?”

Steve stopped to think before he continued walking. “Let it be a surprise. Thanks though JARVIS.”

“My pleasure sir.”

Silently, Steve crept his way up through the tower to the roof, seeing Tony standing against the railings looking out over the city. Steve let out a small sigh, just taking in Tony’s form. His skin was pale in the full moon light, his hair curled from the sweat that had most likely coated it earlier. The wind tussled it slightly, causing Tony’s body to shiver since he’d come outside in only his boxer shorts, not bothering to even dress. It was warm, but not that warm apparently. Not that Steve could tell; his body was like a furnace.

He walked up behind Tony and wrapped his arms around the genius’ middle, pulling him into a relaxed hug as be buried his face into Tony’s hair, feeling a small laugh rise up from Tony’s stomach to leave his mouth.

“How’d you know I would be here?”

“JARVIS telling me aside, call it a gut feeling.” Steve mused, breathing in Tony’s scent and reminding himself this was real. No more doubting and worrying he was insane.

They remained quiet, just enjoying each other’s company for a short while, Tony pressed against Steve and Steve gently rocking him as he hummed. Tony was tense.

“...You could hear me talking to you, couldn’t you?” Stark finally broke the silence between them.

“Yeah. I couldn’t tell it was you, but...I think deep down I knew it was you anyway. Although it made me think I was crazy, hearing voices talking to me...I trusted it. I trusted you. Even when I was scared and alone you were my light in the darkness.” Steve closed his eyes, thumb brushing up and down Tony’s pectoral muscles. “In my insanity, you kept me sane. I don’t think many people can claim that as a thing they’ve ever done.” He chuckled.

And yet, Tony didn’t laugh. That worried him.

“...Tony?”

“When you...went into cardiac arrest, I didn’t even think. I started doing CPR whilst Bruce was still trying to get the disk off of you to save you...I saw my entire life flash before me and I’d never felt so alive until you came into it. I...I didn’t want you to die. Damn it Steve if I’d lost you,” his grip on the railing tightened until his knuckles went white and his shoulders tensed to the point of pain. Steve stopped hugging him to smooth his hands over Tony’s shoulders, gently hushing him.

“I was so scared...” His voice was barely above a whisper, and yet Steve could hear the pain and anguish in it.

“Tony...” he gently prised his lover’s hands off of the railings to turn Tony to face him, lightly lifting his chin. “I was never going to leave you. When I was on that roof, I just knew that everything was going to be okay. Even if jumping had killed me...living that life wasn’t worth it if I couldn’t be with you. No life would be.”

The arc reactor’s blue light lit up Tony’ face and eyes, the tears in the corners of his eyes plainly obvious to see to Steve now. He gave Tony a small smile, a thumb coming up to wipe them away. I was never going to leave you, and even when forced I’m always going to fight my way back okay?”

“Promise...promise you won’t leave me?” Tony sounded broken. Steve knew. Everyone left Tony eventually. Everyone let him down somehow. But he was never going to do that.

“On pain of death or insanity, you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled, leaning in to kiss him tenderly, tow two of them revelling in the sweet contact. “Come on, you’re gonna freeze out here.” Steve finally broke off the contact as Tony shivered under his touch. Stark whined, but Steve picked him up, carrying him back down to their bed.

Once again, the two avengers found themselves curled up together, Tony tucked up against Steve, his head rested under his chin. Steve’s hands gently trailed up and down Tony’s spine, drawing patterns on Stark’s back as if it were a canvas.

“Did you mean it?” Steve asked quietly.

“Hm? Mean what? What did I say?”

“You’d fall back through that wormhole if it meant saving me?” Voice barely above a whisper. Tony tensed up before relaxing again, shuffling closer to Steve.

“Yeah. As long as you’re there to catch me.” He kissed Steve’s collar bone.

Steve gave a small laugh. “Of course I would be. I’d...crash that plane again too. If it meant you lived.” He admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“That’d be dumb. I’d be right beside you all the way. We’d both go down.” Now it was Tony’s turn to chuckle. “Then I’d grab you and we’d hall ass out of there.”

Steve shook his head. “You always have to cut the wire don’t you?” He smiled, kissing Tony’s forehead. “Dork.”

“You’re the-“ yawn “dork. Now go to sleep. Some of us are tired from stressing that their boyfriend was gonna die.” Tony prodded him gently before settling down, closing his eyes. Steve rolled his own before closing them, holding Tony close.

Before long, Tony was gently snoring, breath hot against Steve’s skin. As Steve drifted off, he couldn’t help but mutter out loud to Tony before he joined him in slumber.

“Love you.”


End file.
